if you were here

oh Jesus

if you were here

in my city

today

where would you be? 

perhaps in a church building

serving your body

but likely elsewhere

where we’d least expect you.

perhaps in a bar

or at a party.

after all, 

didn’t the religious folk

call you a glutton and a drunkard? 

oh Jesus

if you were here 

in my city

today

who would you be with?

perhaps with the pastors

or seminarians

or bible study groups

but likely with others

those we’d least expect you to.

perhaps with homeless addicts

or the incarcerated

or nursing home residents 

or patients in the ER waiting room

or children in the DHS office.

after all, 

didn’t you come

for the lost, the least, the lonely? 

oh Jesus 

if you were here

in my city

today

what would you be doing? 

perhaps teaching

or healing

or praying 

but likely different

than what we’d expect of you.

perhaps condemning hypocrisy

in our bible studies

or flipping over tables

in our churches

or making lesbians heroes

in your stories

or calling terrorists to come

in your inner circle

or up-ending everything we held firm

in our doctrine.

after all, 

didn’t they kill you

for blasphemy? 

oh Jesus

I am here

in my city

today

where and who and what now?